


Some Kind of Man

by dingo (asterion)



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anti-Woobification, Coulson do you even ethics, HYDRA Trash Party, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Internalized Transphobia, Interrogation, Like You've Never Seen it Before!, M/M, Misogyny, Multi, SHIELDRA, There are only three characters in this story and they're all shitty people, Trans Male Character, Transphobia, brock rumlow's fragile masculinity, no stun baton
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-05-11 15:02:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5630899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asterion/pseuds/dingo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brock Rumlow is a brutal person to whom brutal things have happened (and just keep happening).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Some Kind of Man

The expert doesn't enter the experimental interrogation room until the subject is already restrained. He had been watching through the video feed as the field agents assisting in the experiment marched the subject in at gunpoint, grappled him into the chair with the biometric equipment and Captain America-rated restraints, and filed out. They addressed no words to the subject, as ordered. The expert let the subject find out that the chair would not allow him to hurt himself or others, let the subject spit abuse toward where he assumed a video camera would be. 

When the verbal outburst subsides, the expert enters, squinting at a sheaf of papers in one hand. In the other, he carries a small case. He does not interrupt the flow of the subject's threats and personal insults. He puts down the papers and the case, shuffles through the papers for one particular sheet, which he skims to double-check the subject's baselines. He tilts the screen displaying the biometric readouts to his satisfaction. He opens the case, removes the needle and the drug, and fills the needle about a quarter of the way. He walks around the table to the subject, and jabs the needle into the subject's upper arm. The interrogation phase of the experiment begins. 

“Where were you born?” the expert asks the subject. The subject redoubles his verbal abuse, and the expert patiently repeats this and other questions he already knows the answers to, noting the signs of the drug's effects beginning to take hold. According to biometric data and his own observations, it only takes seven and a quarter minutes before for the drug to take full effect, a marked improvement over the first round of testing. 

“What year were you born?” the expert asks. 

“1969,” the subject answers, “but I look pretty good for my age, I think, especially the kinda life I’ve led. Time in the desert doesn’t help, it’s bad for your skin, I worry about skin cancer cuz of all the time I spent in the sun and my grandfather died of -” 

“What year did you graduate from high school?” the expert interrupts. 

“I got my GED in 1985, high school was such shit -” 

The expert lets him rant about his teachers, the curriculum, and his fellow students. This functions a metric for the level of free association the subject exhibits at this stage. 

“What year did you join SHIELD?” the expert redirects. 

“In 1993,” the subject says, changing topic without a qualm.“You know, I was excited, genuinely excited about joining SHIELD. I hadn’t been excited about joining the Army in the same way, I mean I’d been excited but with the Army, you have no idea what kind of duty you’ll pull, I coulda been stuck on a base in Wyoming. SHIELD Ops, you were practically guaranteed plenty of action, that’s what they told me and I was skeptical obviously, but still I could tell that -”

“Who recruited you to SHIELD?”

“Pierce, Alexander Pierce himself!” the subject answers with a big grin, leaning forward as far as he the restraints allow. The expert notes the subject's relatively unfiltered pride as indicative of his emotional disinhibition. “I had no idea who he was at the time, but after I joined I remember how people reacted when I told them. They were impressed, and I figured out why they were impressed. Hadda live up to their expectations, though and that -” 

“Where were you when Pierce recruited you?”

“Cairo, haven’t been back since actually, but I spent a bunch of time in North Africa for awhile, between the Army and SHIELD. Security gigs, you know. It was great, less discipline than the Army but a helluva lot more money and more variety. Got to choose my weapons, and so - “

“What methods did you use to conceal your transgender status during your Army service?” The subject is known to never discuss his transgender status or his experiences as a transgender man, and during the first round of testing this subject had been able to resist the effects of the drug when questioned on this topic, indicating that the drug's disinhibiting effects were inadequate. This time, the subject remains willing to comply and provide the information requested, but the subject's speech increases in speed and biometrics confirm a significant increase in agitation. 

“I mean, I didn’t, no one could tell, I mean, they thought, they all had the wrong idea, they had no idea, most people have no idea, which is good, no one can tell unless I say, I mean sometimes doctors, but it wasn’t until Hydra that, and anyway, Hydra didn’t care, Hydra knew the kind of man I am, they knew, so -” 

“Why did you leave the Army?” The expert is disappointed that the subject has avoided directly addressing his transgender status. 

“I couldn’t anymore, I just couldn’t, I couldn’t stand it anymore.” The subject grits his teeth, tendons standing out in his neck. “I mean, I can put up with a lot, stayed awake 72 hours for one recon mission this one time, that was with the STRIKE team -” 

The expert chooses to test how many repeats and redirects would be necessary for the requested information to be provided. “Why did you leave the Army?” 

“I’d had enough, I was sick of it, christ, the Army though, I mean, there was a lot to get sick of, the food and the goddamn officers riding my ass, jesus all of it really, I left because of all - “

“What were you sick of?” 

“Lying, hiding. I’m a good liar -” 

“What were you hiding while you were in the Army?” The subject's jaw clenches and he manages to pause before the compulsion to provide the requested information overcomes him. 

“They all thought I was a woman, ok, they all had the totally wrong idea, and I heard, well, I heard about surgery, I heard about hormones, though it was damn hard to get ‘em on the street then, and I didn’t wanna talk to doctors, tell them about this shit, doctors don’t know shit, I woulda had to talk to a fuckin’ psychiatrist, christ I hate shrinks.” The subject's biometrics indicate the sort of arousal the subject displays during some combat situations, and he's sweating heavily and pulling against the restraints. Although he was making consistent eye contact earlier in the experiment, his eyes are now fixed on the tabletop, likely a sign of shame. 

“You left the Army in order to gain access to testosterone and surgery so you could transition?”

“Yeah, I’d had enough of being a woman,” he says bitterly. “It sucked, I mean most women are just, they’re so fuckin weak and people thinking I was like that, and just the way they looked at me, not the way people look at me now, they look at me now and they see what sort of man I am - “ 

“Where did you work after the Army?” The expert decides it's time to see how quickly the subject's stress levels fall when information on a more neutral topic was requested. 

“Well I bummed around Europe for awhile, did some security work, like stupid shit, even bouncing at this place in Rome, whatever, just gettin by and seein some of the world for awhile,” he says. He is already noticeably calmer and his words come more slowly. “Heard about some better gigs down in North Africa, good money, I’m not all about money, but it’s nice to be recognized, money is a good way to be recognized for what I can do -” 

“Who did you work for after the Army?”

“First it was this crew, I mean there was some official name for all the shell companies and shit, I don't know how all that worked, but we called ourselves the Rampagers, which was kinda a stupid name I think, too over the top, you know? And they -” 

“Did they know you were transgender?”

“They figured it out, most of ‘em, after awhile, they didn’t care, we just didn’t talk about it, they could tell I wasn’t some pussy, I held up my end of things,” the subject insists, his biometric readings starting to rise again, “I more than held up my end of things, I was solid, they appreciated me and you know that meant a lot to me after the Army, and the scut work I'd been getting in Europe - “

“Did they ever talk to you about being transgender?”

I don’t think - well that one time Prior and I got wasted, Prior was from Birmingham or somewhere like that, little guy, but formidable, you didn’t wanna fuck with him, it was good to work with a man like Prior -” 

“What did you tell Prior?”

“I barely remember, we were so fuckin drunk, he wanted to, he was like, curious, you know? He thought I was some kinda – I beat the shit out of him for that, I beat his fuckin face in - “

“What was he curious about?” 

“He wanted to know what it be like to, you know, he thought he could fuck me, but no one fucks me!” The subject is shouting now. “No one fuckin fucks me, that fuckin asshole! I beat the shit out of him, he fuckin deserved it, he thought I was some kinda fag or pussy or something, he didn’t - “

“What happened after that?” the expert has to raise his voice to be sure of being clearly heard. 

“I hadda leave, I just left, woke up with blood on my knuckles, grabbed some of my shit and fuckin left, I couldn’t stay after that, it just wouldn’t, fuck, it wouldn’t work anymore, but I hadda do it, couldn’t let him think, hadda show him - “

“Who did you work for after that?” 

“This other outfit, even stupider name, it didn’t last long, but I got to shoot a lion while I was with them, that was fuckin amazing, just the size of the thing - “

“Why didn’t it last long?”

“Well, they found out, I guess they found out before I proved myself, before I gotta chance to show ‘em the kinda man I am.” The subject's heart is pounding, and his expression is more fear than anger. “Their loss, their mistake, I’m good at what I do, I think fast on my feet, I hold up my end, I -” 

“What happened when they found out that you were transgender?”

I don’t wanna - look, it just, they thought it was funny, they thought it was fuckin funny - I can’t - I don’t wanna - they were assholes anyway, I could already tell I could do better, I was already thinking about going to like the Balkans, maybe see if I could get a gig with the Saudis, they’re so fuckin rich over there -” 

“What did the members of this outfit do when they found out that you were transgender?”

“They wanted to look, they wanted to take a look,” the subject twists in his seat as far as the restraints allow, eyes fixed on the floor. “And they - they - they fucked me, I coulda taken any of them, any three of them, but it was all of them, those cowards, I wanna kill them, I’m gonna find ‘em and kill ‘em - “

“Did they all rape you?” the expert asks, and the subject's biometrics spike. 

“Yeah, all of - I coulda fought ‘em off if - I didn’t have any warning, I dunno how they figured it out so fast, I was so fuckin careful, I still don’t know -” The subject's chest is heaving as he breaths fast and shallow. 

“Did Pierce know that you were transgender?” 

“Yeah, he knew, I guess he’d had someone talk to those fuckin cowards,” the subject's voice rises to a shout again, “I’m gonna rip their spines out and fuck them with - I’m gonna fuckin destroy - gonna find their women, their daughters and just - christ, I’m just gonna - “

“Did Pierce say anything about you being transgender?”

“Yeah, he got to the point real fast, I liked that,” the subject quiets, visibly relieved, “he said that I’d have the chance to do the kind of work he knew I excelled at and that no one would care about the thing, that how I was born didn’t matter to them, he really recognized, you know, what sort of man I am, I mean at the time I wasn’t sure if it was all for real, but I didn’t care a whole lot, I could only find shit work where I was and just, you know, wanted to start somewhere fresh, it was good to get back to the States actually, all the amenities except when I was in the field and SHIELD always had good gear, or I guess SHIELD still does, this stuff you gave me is some good stuff, isn’t it, I’d have loved to have some of this stuff on a few missions - “

“When were you recruited to Hydra?”

“I started hearing hints real soon after I started at SHIELD, I guess Pierce had his eye on me for that, too, just little tests, weird conversations, Hydra could be real weird and roundabout with - “

“When were you recruited to Hydra?” 

“I was formally asked about eighteen months after I started at SHIELD, and it was weird, Hydra’s weird little rituals - “

“When was your Hydra initiation?”

“I guess almost two years after I started at SHIELD, it was winter, a real cold night, that was a rough winter, I remember - “

“What happened at your Hydra initiation?”

“There were three of us, all of us got to - there were speeches and shit, and we were like formally presented with some of the codes, that’s the kind of weird shit Hydra did, make a big deal out of - “

“Describe what else happened at your Hydra initiation.” The expert swallows a yawn – the room is chilly, and dim except for the light on the subject's face and the glow of the biometric readout. He'd been up late going over the results of yesterday's experiments, too. 

“Oh there was booze and drugs, really good cocaine, like top notch.” The subject smiles a little. “There were at least two Columbian drug lords in on it, just that I know of, that I figured out, but they didn't get to go down to the initiation room. There was this cocktail thing upstairs in some fancy house, I think Pierce owned it, he was hosting anyway, but they had this whole set-up downstairs, like, chains in the walls and drains in the fuckin floors -“

“Was there a sexual component to your Hydra initiation?”

The subject attempts to deflect the question. “Component, jesus fuckin christ, listen to you, a component -” 

“Did you have sex with anyone at your Hydra initiation?” 

“Yeah, they usually had you - it was weird bonding stuff, I guess, some folks were really into it, I dunno, it could be a good time ...” 

“Who did you have sex with at your Hydra initiation?”

“The Asset, if you can believe it. They, yeah, they brought out the Asset, I mean, not just for the initiation, but he wasn’t on ice so I guess they figured they’d bring him along, I guess he must have been brought out for that assassination in -” 

“How did you have sex with the Asset at your Hydra initiation?”

“I fucked him, obviously, I mean, how else - what else did you think I was gonna - seriously, what else did you think - “ the subject spits out, voice rising. 

“Did you want to have sex with the Asset?”

“Not really, cuz then they’d all see, I didn’t want them to see, it was an honor, I know that, I mean the whole thing, the whole ceremony and all that shit, it was weird, stupid Hydra rituals -“

“Why didn’t you want to fuck the Asset?”

“They saw, all of them, they saw - it’s no one’s business, no one needs to - it doesn’t matter, it’s not the important thing about, I mean, couldn’t they see what kinda man I am without -“

“What did they see?”

“They saw my dick, ok, and it's, it's.” The subject pauses for a long moment, panting, making a tremendous effort to resist the compulsion to speak, and then continues unwillingly. “It's not flesh, I thought someone would laugh, but no one did, but who knows what they were thinking, I bet they were thinking that - I bet some of them got the wrong idea, but they knew what kinda work I did, and they found out, I showed them, I showed them how I work, I was reliable, so fuckin reliable they put me on Captain fuckin America -” 

The subject stops abruptly, hanging forward in the restraints and breathing heavily, his temples dark with sweat. He raises his head, furious, and shouts, “You like this, you pussy, fuckin pathetic, just riding a desk, you like getting me to say these things? You think you’re some kinda man, you cunt, yeah, I know what you are, I can fuckin tell, I get outta this chair, I’m gonna show you what you really are, just a weak cunt – just a, just a” the subject trails off into a sound of despair, between a growl and a moan. He heaves himself as far as he can against the restraints, teeth gritted against the compulsion to provide requested information. The expert waits, curious to see what topic the subject will turn to next. “Fuck, I told you all that, you fuckin made me tell you that, gonna kill you -” and the subject begins sobbing. 

The emotional lability is an unacceptable side effect of the serum. 

The expert continues to ask questions but the subject cannot recover sufficient emotional stability to provide adequate responses. Eventually, the drug leaves the subject's system and he manages to regain a measure of the sullen defiance he'd displayed prior to the experiment and responds to questions with silence or muttered threats. The expert sighs, gathers his papers, and leaves the room. 

Coulson had asked the expert to report to his office immediately after completing this phase of the experiment. When the expert is granted entrance to Coulson's office, he has the live feed of the subject up on a screen. “Give me a preliminary report, Agent.” 

“Well, clearly the techs still haven’t ironed out that big problem we keep having. Rumlow’s relaxed mental state from when the drug was first administered gave way to emotional volatility without any apparent decrease in its disinhibiting effects. And questioning someone in that state -” he nods toward where the image on the screen: Rumlow sagging in the restraints, face set and snot running down his chin. 

“But other subjects in this round of testing have shown a marked improvement relative to the previous round,” Coulson comments. 

“Yes, so the end may be in sight, but I don’t think Rumlow is an outlier, per se.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“There are many reasons a person might not want to share information during an interrogation, but in Rumlow's case he feels intense shame about being transgender and about being a victim of multiple sexual assaults. While it is impossible to quantify the amount of shame a person feels, the other subjects in this round were not questioned on equivalently fraught topics. If the drug promotes this kind of emotional lability, it will interfere with its efficacy as an interrogation drug. We want to induce intense emotional distress in subjects only when we need to.” 

“What do you suggest, Agent?” Coulson asks. 

“My recommendation is that we continue refining both the drug and our protocols for questioning before we begin to consider moving it from R&D,” the expert answers promptly. 

Coulson gives a short nod. “I agree with that assessment, but the need is urgent – we need more bodies in SHIELD and we need to ensure that none of them have Hydra affiliations. I’m going to have Landaverde provide a small amount of the truth serum to Recruitment, to be used on a trial basis. I want you to prepare training materials on the protocols for them.” 

“Understood, sir.” The expert is not surprised.


End file.
